In A Quandary at 13800ft

Pick up a map and there you see numerous forks on the road. Like the nerves in our body, lightnings that shoot in the air, roots of a tree, it's sprawls as if it searches for something or it reaches so far until it ends. These forks in the road forces you to stop and make a choice on which path to take. One path take you to an off-beaten, maybe quite longer, less familiar path. Another path may take you the expected, well-marked, often used, highly trafficked, highly recommended by most. And then there's this path, that for some may say take you nowhere, but for an eternal optimist like myself, there's really no nowhere, it's somewhere. It may not be your final, expected, wanted destination, but it's what you make of it that makes it count.

My first venture into high altitude hiking took me to Peru. There I hiked for 6 days with a team of porters that will guide us through the Andes that in the end took us to Machu Picchu. Part of the journey was to hike the through many mountain towns in Peru. From Cusco at 11,175ft through the Sacred Valley at 8000ft, Ollantaytambo at 9000ft, and summitting at 15,748ft on Lares Pass through the Sicllaccasa Mountain. That experience was the beginning of me understanding what it takes to endure multi-day, high altitude hike. Mind you, I was active and fit then. But that was what I called gym-fit, working out 5-6 days a week. I didn't realize that being gym-fit does not equal to outdoors-fit. I struggled throughout the hike and the altitude made it worse. I cannot believe how much I struggled, I went and get myself checked by doctors. Something must be wrong with my heart, my ears, my lungs. The doctors said I was healthy, my heart was fine. I came to conclusion that I didn't know how to hydrate and fuel for such long hikes. After that, I have vowed to be more informed, and with that knowledge I had become more enamored of climbing peaks, and the challenges that comes with it. I have put on a bucket list. I have put Everest Basecamp, Patagonia, Mont Blanc, Kilimanjaro, and so on and so forth. I sprung into action booking EB for 2020. I was running, hiking, and building my endurance. I have booked my flights, hotels, guides, bought all the gears required, and in March of 2020 it was abruptly cancelled due to the pandemic. That didn't deter me. My eyes were still set to redeem myself from the challenges I faced during the Lares Trek. Throughout 2020, with help of friends we did climb many peaks. Tallest peak in Sedona, Mt. Wilson at 7000ft; tallest peak in Arizona, Mt. Humphrey's at 12,600ft; and North Rim Grand Canyon at 8000ft. The next challenge is the 14000ft peaks of Colorado. And so I did.

The Quandary Peak (https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/colorado/quandary-peak-trail) has a summit of 14,250ft. I have read reviews of this trail for months on end leading up to the day of the hike. I was ready for what this peak has to offer. I have waterproof boots, crampons, winter gaiters, gloves, hat, you name it! I have never hiked in snow before, but after the Grand Canyon Rim 2 Rim, I told myself I can do this. This sign below welcomes the hiker: There are no easy Fourteeners. Yes sir!

The hike starts before sunrise due to availability of parking spots. To my surprise, there's snow even on the parking lot. I can do this. Look at this gorgeous sunrise.

I have learned a new term hiking in Colorado. Flat-landers - people who come from the flat lands. Phoenix is at 1,000ft elevation, and the trail starts at 10,000ft. I am a flat-lander and I was out of breath walking from the parking lot to the trail head, and it's all uphill from there. And as a flat lander, I am used to dirt, dust, gravel, sand, and now, wow we're hiking on snow!

The hiking group is composed mostly of the fit, fabulous, and beautiful 20-somethings. I was always behind, needing to take a breath and rest. As we approach the first big climb through the snow, it was hard going. My heart, my legs, and my breathing. But I wasn't tired. I know how to be slow and steady, take mini-breaks and recover, and move on. The young-ones as I call them decided to stop at 12000ft. There are many times that I too wanted to give up. Specially if there are hikers who are going down from the first peak who are turning around due to wind. I saw the 2 ladies who passed me at one point, got blown a few feet like papers, and turn around. They said that they were on all-fours and the wind just kept going. Now the oldest person in the group is not only leading, but also the only who kept going. I may be down, but not out.

As the guide and I climb past 12000ft, the winds are starting to berate us. Imagine walking through hurricane force winds, on top of snowy mountain, and having to hang on to a boulder to not get blown away. I was reminded by my Citizen Army Training when I was in highschool. In that training, when you hear a shot, you drop to the ground. This time when we hear the gush of wind, we drop, put our backs against the wind, and wait for it to subside. Subside such that you when you can plant your feet and not get blown off, you walk uphill, a step, 10 steps, and every step is a battle between you and the wind. The goal is to get to the next boulder for cover. And so we did, and we reached 13000ft.

Once you got over the first false peak, there's one last peak to conquer. 1200ft more, I can see it. The wind is getting stronger, and getting longer. It doesn't seem to subside anymore. The next 100ft was done doing a bear-crawl using the folded poles as picks into the ice to hang on to. We went from boulder to boulder. The boulders are now becoming scant. And at one point, to cover is to put your arms around your head, facing down, because now the wind comes with ice. And it felt like tiny glass hitting your cheek. We went bear crawling, laying face down for cover, until there are no more boulders to hang on to. And I looked up. It's 400ft away. The peak is 400ft away. All white, no boulders, and winds pouncing.

I am in a quandary at 13800ft. My guide was ahead of me. How much do I want this peak? I wanted to do a fourteener. This is why I am in Colorado. This is why I went and did the Humphrey's and Grand Canyon. This is why I am willing to hike on a snow. I am feeling better than I am when I was doing the Lares Trek. I am not tired. But I was scared. Every time that gale force wind gusts through with all its might. I am humbled by its power, and how little I am in this white mountain. I have to make a decision, I am at fork in the road. This one was easy. I chose to go down and leave the peak behind. The peak was majestic, beautiful, serene. It's not for me this time. Did this fork lead me to nowhere? I tell you not, this fork led me to 13800ft. And I did better than I expected. All the more excited to my future peaks.

Life is funny at times. In Quandary Peak, I have the time, the energy, the gears, the mindset, but the weather is just not with me that day. Much like in anything we do. We have a goal. We set our heart into these goals. We put our hearts, our minds, our energy, our time in hopes of achieving these goals. We do all the right things. We check all these boxes. Yet, there are outside forces beyond our control. We can keep fighting, we can keep powering through, weathering through, after all no pain no gain isn't it? But I believe that sometimes, we have to trust that these that these forces are telling us, not today kid. There is a path for you somewhere.